What Quinn Did To Santana
by Ezzy67
Summary: "Anger grew deep inside her, of all that Santana had done to her over the past year: slept with Finn, slept with Puck, probably sleeping with Sam. Quinn was going to fix it. And she knew exactly how." My first Glee fanfic, please R&R!


**A/N: This is an idea I got. I now wish it actually hadn't ended the way it did. Enjoy though!**

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Quinn glared as she watched Santana and Sam making out on the couch. Anger grew deep inside her, of all that Santana had done to her over the past year: slept with Finn, slept with Puck, probably sleeping with Sam. The one guy she was able to trust after her pregnancy had turned his back on her. She loathed him.

She caught Santana's eye, glaring at her while her hands tightened around her drink. Quinn was so pissed, so pent up with the anger she couldn't let go of. The anger she couldn't suppress, the one that finally surfaced completely about her fellow Cheerio.

Quinn walked past Brittany who was stripping on top of Rachel's washing machine over to the couple, pouring her drink on them before stalking off to the stairs leading out of Rachel's basement. She heard yells and screams directed at her, but only turned around when she reached the top of the stairs.

"What was that for, you skanky bitch?" Santana screamed, stumbling over to the bottom of the stairs. "Don't be such a coward! Get your blonde ass down here if you have a bone to pick with me!" Sam walked up behind her, trying to pull her back while she ranted. He just glared at Quinn with contempt, shaking his head slowly.

Santana had turned him into this, and Quinn was going to fix it. And she knew exactly how.

She held the knife, shiny in the moonlight. Shoving it in her face, she snarled, "I've taken your shit for long enough, Santana. Listen to me, and listen carefully." Quinn slowly dragged the knife up and down Santana's jaw line. "You ever intend misfortune on me, or anyone ever again, you can bet," Quinn pointed the knife at her throat, her eyes flashing up to Santana's face once again, "you will be sorry."

Walking over to the window, she pushed the curtains out of the way, preparing to jump. She turned back towards the bed, whispering, "And if you tell anyone of this, you'll definitely be dead." Quinn jumped onto the roof, slowly walking along it until she could climb down the terrace. She eased herself down quietly, feeling accomplished and lucky that she hadn't fallen off the roof in her drunken state when her feet touched the soft grass.

Santana came hurling around the corner with a knife bigger than Quinn's, aiming for her. She could either climb back up the terrace and face her there, or stay on the ground and fight now. She lunged, the knife pointed directly at Santana.

"You always got everything you've ever wanted, Quinn. You were head cheerleader, girlfriend to the star of the football team, leader of the celibacy club. The best day of my life was the day you got knocked up," she snarled. They walked around each other in a circle.

"Wait." Quinn smiled at Santana. "Didn't Coach Sylvester make me head cheerleader again? And denounce you to the bottom of the pyramid, sandbags? You had it worse then, I believe." Quinn's hand flashed out, knocking her knife out of her hand. Santana charged anyway.

Quinn dropped her knife accidentally, having it bounce away from her grasp. Her head hurt from all the alcohol at Rachel's party still, making her judgment hazy. But Santana had had more to drink than she had.

They rolled on the ground, landing any blow they could. Quinn's back hit the terrace, causing her to gasp in pain. She started to breathe heavily, pinned against the terrace, Santana on top of her. All she could gather was the flash of the knife, the dirt under the roses, and the shrill laughter.

Quinn quickly grabbed the garden stake, bringing it up and into Santana's body. Blood spattered on her face. Santana took once last shallow breath, and collapsed on top of her. Quinn felt the blood pool in the crook on her neck.

"Now who's the coward?" she breathed into Santana's colorless face.

Shoving her off, she stumbled to her feet, grabbed both knives, and walked down the street into the shadows. No one would ever really know what had happened to Santana Lopez.

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**See? What did I tell you. **

**I'd like to give a BIG shoutout to my friend Tori (GleeFreak-VampireChik) for all the support and encouragement about this fic even though she never read it until I posted! You believed in me and that means a lot! **

**Thanks!**

**-Ezzy **


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